


Chimera

by gacrux



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 10:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gacrux/pseuds/gacrux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jojen watches Bran while he sleeps and Bran is understandably a little concerned by that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chimera

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't gotten to them in the books so this is based entirely on what that show has given us to work with. Which is to say, not a whole hell of a lot.

At first, Bran had been determined not to make an issue out of it. The vivid green eyes, the intensity of the stares and the perpetual state of edginess he found himself in because of it. He had been steadfast about cutting himself off before the questions could stumble off his tongue, and it worked well enough for a while. He was controlled enough to do so most of the time anyway, but it took a little extra effort in a case like this.

 

There was just _something_ about the way Jojen stared at him that rubbed Bran the wrong way. It wasn't that he felt scrutinized, no, it was almost the opposite. Whenever he caught Jojen's eyes with his own, there was nothing there to see. It was like he was looking into a pond slicked over entirely with green algae or – well, something less poetic. Jojen's eyes were closed off, perplexing sometimes, when he looked at Bran that way. He was perfectly masked somehow; unreadable.

 

Then Osha informed him off to the side in a quiet, insistent tone of voice, “The green boy watches you in your sleep, little lord. I wouldn't trust him at all for any reason.”

 

So Bran was understandably a little concerned with that new development.

 

He had a conversation with Meera not long ago about Jojen and his oddities. He was a puzzle of a person, a boy, who acted like a man of years well over his prime. To the Bran that once climbed towers at Winterfell, he made very little sense and was even less interesting to talk to. To the Bran that couldn't walk and dreamt of three-eyed ravens, however... he was a different matter entirely. Meera had smiled enigmatically at him, and informed him that Jojen was fascinated by Bran, too.

 

“He's transfixed on your powers. Not in a bad way, mind you, it's just... well, I think he was a bit lonely.”

 

“Lonely?”

 

“Yes. Jojen is very serious about his destiny, which I think he's always felt a little suffocated by. When he found out what it was, that was all that mattered to him, see. So he doesn't get along with very many other people. He's... cautious. But with you, well, you matter to him. You _are_ his destiny. So his interest in you is very complex, I think.”

 

“Oh.”

 

And the conversation had ended there, because Bran ran out of words to speak. Jojen still made just as little sense as he had before Meera's explanation, and yet somehow Bran still felt a bit more enlightened. He couldn't really connect with the story, but he understood what it was to feel trapped by fate. He understood a little too well, even.

 

So the next time Jojen revealed himself in one of Bran's dreams, Bran turned to him and began to speak.

 

“Why do you... watch me?” He almost lost his nerve halfway through after squaring off with Jojen's guarded eyes, but managed to gather it back up again. Jojen, meanwhile, looked vaguely taken aback by the sudden turn of events. Bran almost never initiated conversation in any manner of reality, dream or otherwise. Jojen always seemed to have something to say before Bran could even think it, some way to guide him, or he somehow knew what Bran wanted to know before Bran could formulate words around the question.

 

“'Why'?” Jojen repeated, tilting his head like he often did when he was puzzled.

 

“Yes. You watch me a lot you know. All the time. Osha told me you even stare at me in my sleep sometimes.” Bran began to walk as he spoke, glancing back to make sure Jojen followed. He did, carefully and quietly padding through the underbrush to Bran's left. His eyes were downcast and a small furrow marred his brow.

 

“I didn't realize I watched you so much.” Jojen admitted softly, sounding as though he'd just reached some consensus about himself on the inside but didn't care to share that information with Bran.

 

“Well, you do.” Bran swung his hand up to catch on a low-hanging branch and jumped a little, swinging a few steps forward before landing lightly. After a contemplative silence, Bran added, “Meera said it's because you're fascinated with my powers. In a good way. Because I'm your destiny somehow.”

 

Jojen hummed thoughtfully and replied, “Well, she's right I suppose. You are my destiny. You are the only thing that matters.” To which Bran frowned.

 

“You said that before. Why do you keep saying that?” He asked, turning his eyes on the thoughtful green-eyed boy.

 

“Because it's true.” Jojen told him simply. “I can't explain it to you, Bran, but know it's true.”

 

“That's not helpful at all.” Bran sighed, glancing over and catching Jojen's lips move into a lopsided smirk.

 

“I'm not here to explain why you're important. I'm here to teach you what little I know and take you to the three-eyed raven. That's where my role ends.” Jojen's voice was subdued and even a little resigned. Bran stopped, one hand braced on a wide tree trunk, and forced himself to meet Jojen's eyes.

 

“By your role ending, do you mean you... leave? Or do you–”

 

“That's not your concern.” The green of Jojen's irises seemed darker in the grey light of the forest. Bran took a step forward and regarded the older boy cautiously, trying to discern the thoughts in Jojen's mind that he could practically see, but couldn't quite touch.

 

“But I am concerned.” Bran informed him. He let one hand rest against Jojen's sleeve unthinkingly, while the other remained loose at his side. “You know what's going to happen, but you won't tell me. I'm worried about what will happen to you, and to Meera.”

 

Jojen blinked and averted his eyes, instead looking somewhere over Bran's shoulder.

 

“Meera will be – fine.” He said in that same tone of resignation. Suddenly, Bran understood with sharp clarity Meera's annoyance over Jojen's lack of will to fight his so-called 'destiny'. His grip on Jojen's sleeve tightened but Jojen didn't meet his eyes. Letting out a quiet sigh, Bran let the topic go. His thumb rubbed an absent circle over Jojen's forearm but his mind was still active, processing what he knew and what he didn't, and he raised his head to say something but – but Jojen was so close that their noses brushed and the brilliant green of his eyes was blurred. Their faint breaths mingled in the sliver of space between them. Bran's heart jumped to his throat and suddenly he was falling from the tower all over again, nothing but air below and air above and nothing to grab to stop his descent – except for Jojen's arm, which he still had clasped rather tightly between his fingers. Without really pausing to consider what he was doing, Bran let that hand slide down to Jojen's, where their fingers twined loosely.

 

Bran swallowed, unconsciously wetting his lips. Jojen's eyes were steady on his, looking at him, or maybe through him like he had a penchant for doing, and then his eyes fluttered shut. Bran drank in the image of Jojen's quiet serenity a moment longer and then let his eyes close too. Jojen's fingers were warm on his shoulder, hesitating there, while his other hand squeezed Bran's a little tensely. Bran was sure if he opened his eyes there would be a crease between Jojen's eyebrows again, and he smiled faintly. His lips were warmed by Jojen's steady breaths, and then – then he was cold, and thunder was rolling loudly the distance, momentarily drowning out the hiss and crackle of the fire.

 

He had woken up.

 

He could feel Jojen's eyes before he even glanced across the fire at him, meeting his smoke-marred stare plainly. There was that guarded look again, but somehow Bran was more conscious of what was hidden behind it. Jojen was just as uncertain, just as afraid and wary as the rest of them. He hid behind wise words and his prophetic green dreams, but he was fumbling in the dark just like Bran was. The thought made Bran smile a little, just a faint upward curve of his lips, but Jojen's eyes widened like he'd just seen the moon outshine the sun.

 

Then Meera came back with the game she'd managed to hunt in the barren plains, and Osha brought Rickon back with Hodor not far behind and everything fell back into comfortable routine. Except for every time Bran closed his eyes, and then he saw Jojen again. Even without remembering what had happened in the dream, the look of wide-eyed vulnerability Bran saw on Jojen would linger with him for longer than he was prepared to admit.


End file.
